


The Advantage of Hindsight

by chipperdyke



Category: The Wicked Years Series - Gregory Maguire, Wicked - All Media Types
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Implied Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-08-25 01:03:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16651321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chipperdyke/pseuds/chipperdyke
Summary: Glinda wakes up thirty years earlier, as Elphaba is about to leave her in the Emerald City. Bookverse, canon-divergent





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick little ditty that I woke up with this morning. Turned into a mini-series that may continue or not, and will probably be one-shots barely connected by anything. Vaguely fluffy, maybe a bit angsty drabble of the most self-indulgent sort.
> 
> Dedicated to & inspired by Ridiculous Mavis and their stories, which have lit up my week.

Glinda was searching the crowd for Elphaba. In a carriage. In the Emerald City. She looked at her gloveless hands, and took a bracing breath.

It couldn't be. But it was. Had the Resurrection Stone worked, after all? Was this the way Glinda would save poor Elphie from her fate - by going all the way back here, to the moment of their parting?

And there she was, brown scarf wrapped around her head and shoulders like a beggar, already blending into the bustle of the city. Glinda spotted her just as she arrived, and it was like a dream. Elphaba, young and spindly like a fawn, her eyes barely shaded by the shawl and black against her skin and fixed on Glinda. Glinda took another deep breath, but words escaped her.

Elphaba deposited a package into Glinda's lap, and Glinda shook herself and stood. The lunch Elphaba had brought her spilled unheeded from her lap and lay strewn on the rough cobblestones of the road.

Elphaba looked alarmed, but as she opened her mouth, Glinda stepped from the carriage. It wasn't as graceful as Glinda had hoped. She'd forgotten that her dresses in those days were simple, limp things, and it threw off her balance. So rather than stepping so close to Elphaba that their toes were touching, Glinda stumbled and wrapped her arms around Elphaba, who was insufficient to catch their combined weight before they tumbled down in a jumble of pink and green limbs.

“Don't you dare, Elphie,” Glinda managed, propping herself up on both hands to see Elphaba's precious face, heedless of the crowd that any moment might trample them. Elphaba was inscrutable. “You won't do this to me, because I won't let you.”

Elphaba didn't say anything, but something did change in her eyes. She squirmed out from under Glinda, scrambled to her feet and held out a hand for Glinda.

Glinda capitalized on Elphaba's silence. “You'll get our baggage before the carriage leaves, and procure us back our old room, and we will discuss what happened today. Go! The carriage is leaving.”

Indeed, the driver did seem to be readying to leave. They sacrificed the cost of their fares but rescued their luggage, and Elphaba obediently trailed behind Glinda as she made her way back to the old inn.

Glinda had passed this place so many times, and remembered. Sometimes she'd even ask to see the rooms. Their room. She had haunted this bed and breakfast, until it was destroyed in a fire and the entire block replaced by a high-rise. At the time, she'd been uncertain that she was sorry it had happened, because she could drown in memories of Elphaba if she wasn't careful, and Glinda had tried for so many years to resist the urge.

The woman who ran the inn asked no questions. She just surrendered the key and told Glinda and Elphaba to find their own way up, and Glinda took the stairs with a renewed energy. She was young again, and the stairs were easy, but the terrible thought occurred to her that maybe she did not have much time here, and that Elphaba was grunting with the luggage, her head down, and had likely not changed her mind.

Glinda turned back down the stairs and took the smaller bag from her. Elphaba looked up at her blankly, and Glinda raised her hand and touched Elphaba's cheek.

Real. Warm. Alive, and breathtaking. “Elphie,” Glinda whispered, overcome on the stairwell.

Elphaba ducked her head and lugged the bag up another stair, and Glinda made way for her.

The room was exactly as Glinda had remembered. Out the window, there was the terracotta roof of the neighbors, and a vine in a pot framed the window. There was just one small bed, made up nicely now, and a table with a washing-bowl and pitcher, and the walls were painted a lovely light green.

Elphaba deposited the luggage at the corner of the room, where it had lived these past days while they waited for their audience. She eyed the door, and Glinda shut it quickly before the creature could escape back out into the world.

She took Elphaba's hand and led her to the bed, and sat cross-legged so that she could look at her profile. There were a few minutes of silence.

Should Glinda tell her the truth? Or should she play the role of young Glinda, with the advantage of the knowledge of their possible future? She'd told Elphaba that they'd talk about what the Wizard said, but there was nothing to talk about, only nonsensical ramblings and rudeness.

Elphaba swallowed, and Glinda followed the motion down her throat. She’d had so little time with Elphaba. This was supposed to be the end of it. Elphaba had sent her away, to Shiz and the rest of her miserable life, without the light that was her, and then she'd escaped to Kiamo Ko after their fight about the farmgirl, and then she'd been so selfish as to die.

A sob wrenched free of Glinda's throat, and Elphaba jumped. “My sweet,” Elphaba said, and reached limp hands toward Glinda, turning her body toward her.

Glinda grabbed her hands, and then her chest. The front of her dress was crumpled in Glinda's hands, and Glinda used it to push Elphaba and pull her at the same time. “How could you?” she choked. “Try to leave me?”

Elphaba looked lost. “I can't stay at Shiz any longer. After everything. There must be something I can do, here.”

“Then bring me with you.” The statement brought them both up short, and Elphaba studied Glinda for a long moment.

It hadn't been necessarily what Young Glinda would have wanted. But this Glinda knew what lay ahead - her parents passing, dear old Chuff, traveling the countryside, dinner parties and all of it empty and alone. When she had walked with Elphaba in the garden at Colwen Grounds, she had not given hint of that feeling. She'd been overcome by seeing Elphaba again. And she hadn't known what was coming, only a few short weeks later.

And looking at Elphaba now, she couldn't explain herself. To toss away the entire path that lay before her, for this stringy green bean.

“You won't get your degree,” Elphaba told her, as if she didn't know. “What will you do here? What will you tell your parents?”

“I'll tell them that I have eloped to the Emerald City, and that I'll finish my degree in a few years. Pa can arrange gainful employment, I'm sure. They'll want to stay in touch, and maybe I will go back to Shiz, later. Or Evar Falls, even.” A college west of Shiz, and generally considered inferior.

“Frema School for Sorcery,” Elphaba suggested slowly. “It's here, in the Emerald City.”

“So you'll have me here?”

Elphaba came back with, “Elope?” Glinda winced. She'd hoped that Elphaba had forgotten that.

“It is much more believable,” she just said, and Elphaba looked down at their hands, still intertwined. Words lay thick in the air between them. They remained unspoken.

Elphaba had loved Fiyero. She had _left_ Glinda. She did not feel as Glinda felt. They would not be lovers, not now and never.

Still, Glinda's grip on Elphaba's hands tightened. She wanted to hold Elphaba against her breast, and care for her, keep her safe here, keep her alive. _When Fiyero comes,_ Glinda vowed, _I'll let her go to him. She's mine for now, for the next few years, at least._

“Nothing matters to me but to be here with you. Please let me choose you.”

Elphaba nodded without looking up, and Glinda gradually, cautiously guided her to laying on the bed, with Glinda curled around her, the gentlest vice. Glinda had expected for Elphaba to stay still with her there for just a few minutes, and then to leap up and begin preparations for the new life they'd just outlined. But she didn't. Instead, the sun through the window painted patterns on their entwined bodies, and Elphaba's fingers traced mindlessly on Glinda's back. Glinda treasured each slow breath and each heartbeat, and let her grip tighten around Elphaba until she was sure that she wouldn't leave.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just going with it...

Glinda scooped one last spoonful of the drippings over the roast and then closed the lid. The fire had burned down to embers in the fireplace, so it shouldn't overcook much, no matter how late Elphaba was.

She looked over at the tiny table, lit by a lantern Elphaba had hung from the ceiling when they'd first moved in here. The table was covered in a blue-and-white gingham cloth, and two places were set with mugs and carven spoons. Unobtrusive yet somehow commanding the scene, a bottle of red wine was placed at the center of the table.

The entire scene was a bit disappointing. Glinda knew she would have done more to spruce it up, but she didn't want to embarrass Elphaba, either. Elphaba would not appreciate a big show about it, probably. Hopefully she wouldn't mind the wine.

Glinda walked to the window. It was spring, and late, so that the light from the sky had dimmed almost to darkness. Still the city lights were bright, pouring through the window and nearly overpowering the wavering yellow light of the lantern. Glinda watched through the window, the small sliver of street and the black of the alley that led up to their boarding-house, and waited.

It was an hour later that it began drizzling, and Glinda wadded up her gloves and gripped them tightly enough that her hands turned white. She paced before the fire, counting the number of raindrops that sizzled in the coals. They'd need to restart it.

The rain picked up, and Glinda despaired. Elphaba would not move about the city with this much rain. She'd stay where she was, wait it out.

Glinda perched on the edge of their shared bed and shivered. She was more worried for Elphaba than she was sad that her plan was ruined. Maybe tomorrow night. But Elphaba would be back tomorrow during the day, and the surprise would be wasted on an empty home.

She imagined Elphaba cutting the roast and eating it alone. Or, worse, throwing it out the window without knowing to what extent Glinda had gone to ensure that it was Animal-safe. She imagined Elphaba finding the wine and asking her later why she didn't just drink it herself, as it would have no effect on Elphaba either way.

Glinda hugged herself and wished she could just go to sleep. But it was cold now, in the room, and she hesitated to light the fire lest the roast be overcooked, and she didn't want to change into her bedclothes in the cold.

She heard boots on the stairs, and her heart leapt. She was halfway to her feet when a key was jammed into the lock, and the door flung open.

Elphaba was a vision, of a kind. The only parts of her skin that showed was a strip around her eyes, and the tips of her fingers through her half gloves. She stomped in the hallway, splattering rain on the ground, and Glinda rushed to her, helping to unwrap the scarf around her head and taking the jacket once Elphaba turned to give her access.

Glinda hung the clothing in hooks near the fire, and Elphaba closed the door. “Damn cold,” she said first, and then her eyes flickered to the table.

“I know, I'm sorry - I should have built up the fire. I didn't know when you'd be home,” Glinda babbled.

“You have class tonight,” Elphaba observed as she pulled off her boots and then pants, which were dripping. She wore long underwear under the pants.

“I told them I was sick,” Glinda told her, and then they both knelt to arrange the wood in the fireplace.

“You've been cooking.” There wasn't really a question in Elphaba's voice. The pot with the roast swung incriminatingly on its hook above the fire.

“Are you hungry?” Glinda asked.

“I figured there was still a bit of bread and cheese,” Elphaba told her. “What have you made?” She lit a match under the kindling, and the flash of light revealed a slight frown in her brow.

“Do you remember that Cow that had the butchery, which had been closed? I tracked him down and he is still operating, out of a sympathetic butcher's shop. They sell a selection of his meats. I thought it might be a treat.” She looked nervously at Elphaba, trying to gauge her reaction.

Elphaba said, “We don't have the cash.” But she did tip open the pot and inhale. “It smells good. And wine, too.” She sat back on her haunches, a question in her eye.

“It's the date we first got this apartment last year. Our first year out of Shiz. I thought it - we could make it an occasion.”

“You should have told me.” Elphaba's tone was gentle. “I would have been home to help you. But it is just as sweet a surprise.” She stood and pulled Glinda up with her. “I did have a sense I should be home tonight.”

Glinda leaned into her. She was actually warmer than Glinda - she almost always was - and it was nice by the fire, although it did not provide much heat yet. Elphaba returned the hug, as always pressing a long kiss to the very top of Glinda's head. Glinda felt forbidden feelings stir in her belly. Her heart nearly burst.

She buried her face in Elphaba's shirt and said, “I am always afraid for you when it showers, Elphie. I wish you would stay closer to home. It rained yesterday, too. Can I entice you to stay home tomorrow?”

“Not tomorrow,” Elphaba told her. “But the next is the week-end. We will have all day.”

“We are getting the bed repaired,” Glinda reminded her. “It will not be much of a holiday.”

“Right,” Elphaba said softly. It was her position that the bed did not need repair, as it was just the headboard that had slipped down, but Glinda had purchased the frame so that their room looked more like a home and less like a hovel. She was glad that Elphaba did not continue to argue on the point.

“Let me change,” Elphaba said finally, and Glinda insisted that she stay by the fire. She brought Elphaba her sleeping clothes, and a thick robe to put over for the chill.

The roast was passible but not delicious. It needed salt, and Glinda had not gotten any. The potatoes were soggy, and the carrot mush. Elphaba crowed in delight at every single detail, and didn't allow Glinda to object to any of it. She was perfect, Glinda thought often. Her eyes shone brightly, and she was animated and sweet. She topped off Glinda's mug with wine so that Glinda was sure she drank much more than her portion, and when they were finished she fetched Glinda's dressing-gown for her, just as Glinda had gotten hers before.

Elphaba'd long since shucked the robe. The fire roared, and Elphaba made to help Glinda out of her dress, which was welcome for a number of reasons.

It had been a long time since Glinda had drank so much. She had made friends at the night school, and a few at the office, with whom she occasionally went to public houses. But Glinda was always watching the time, wary to stay out too late and come to the office the next morning drowsy, hopeful that Elphaba was home or that when she came home, she'd wake Glinda getting into bed and they could talk for at least a few minutes each day.

The wine buzzed in her ears, and she forgot that Elphaba was not hers. Not that she could remember _why_ she wasn't hers to begin with. Last year, she'd known why she had to leave Shiz with Elphaba, and why she couldn't kiss her. But she'd forgotten both reasons in the interim. She did not mind working during the day and going to school at night, and letting Elphaba make her own way in the revolutionary circles and come home to her when she could.

She did mind that Elphaba was not hers. It was not fair, or reasonable, and moreover, when Elphaba helped work her dress over her head, she wrapped her arms around Glinda and put their cheeks together.

Glinda wished mightily that Elphaba could feel her heart beating through their intertwined hands. She wished Elphaba would put the pieces together, and see that there was no substitute for her, and that there was a reason Glinda had never dated at Shiz and did not date now. Elphaba was fully enough for Glinda. In moments like these, Glinda could nearly fall into the fantasy that they _had_ eloped from Shiz together as she had told her parents they did. In moments like these, Glinda could imagine that they were in love.

Glinda wore only her slip and her brassiere, and Elphaba her plain dress that she wore to bed, and it was like there was nothing between them at all. She tipped her head and kissed Elphaba's cheek, and she felt Elphaba's breathing change.

Glinda's heart nearly burst with the bone-deep knowledge of her own feelings. There was someone else for Elphaba - that was it, that was what she'd known before - but he was not here, and Elphaba trembled against her and did not release her.

Glinda turned in Elphaba's arms and looked into her eyes. She did not pull Elphaba down to her, but Elphaba was drawn anyway.

The first brush of their lips was searching, questioning. The second kiss was blistering in intensity, a twin roar to the fire, consuming every detail of their pasts and melting their futures in its crucible into one.


	3. Chapter 3

Things were changing again. It started with the food. When Glinda came home, there was always something hot waiting for her, whether Elphaba was there herself or not. The coals would be banked up, and something would be in the pot. It wasn't always the most interesting dinner, but Elphaba made it for Glinda, which made it a gift.

Elphaba was never untidy, but she began doing things that she had never done before. Glinda would find fruit arranged in a pyramid in the fruit bowl, and wonder if it was another small gift from Elphaba. A thing of beauty that Elphaba made for her pleasure alone. The apartment became impeccable.

There were more obvious gifts, too. Glinda found the charcoal pencils she used for drawing replaced before they ran out completely. It was always a replacement of higher quality than Glinda would buy for herself. A new portfolio appeared, and Glinda blushed when she found that her loose sketches had already been arranged in it. There were a few that she had not wanted Elphaba to see, of a woman in a bed with knobby knees and an angular face, in a pose of waiting. Really it had been Glinda that was waiting. She normally wanted to draw buildings, floor designs and flourishes, but of late her fingers itched to touch curves of a different kind. On many nights, the sketch had to be enough.

Elphaba also insisted on paying the rent. Glinda had paid the first four months, and the majority of the payments on the rest, too. Glinda didn't say anything, until it was the next month and Elphaba informed her that the rent was again paid.

Glinda began worrying. Where was the money coming from? Had Elphaba's nighttime Revolution turned to thievery? What remained unspoken between them, and would it put Elphaba in danger?

So she stopped by the garage where Elphaba had been picking up a few hours. The foreman intercepted her as she entered the open door of the warehouse. The entire place stank of horses and grease. There were four carriages parked in various states of wholeness and disrepair. Panels were off - the carriages were halfway propped up by blocks - there was no sign of Elphaba. A few of the men looked up as she scanned the warehouse. She let her eyes skip over them, but she could feel their hungry gazes on her anyway.

“Milady,” the Munchkin greeted her. Not a greeting Glinda heard often - she tipped her head at it and demurred. The feeling of vulnerability was shielded somewhat by the foreman's respectfulness. “Are you here to enquire about services? To pick up a carriage?”

“No,” Glinda said. “To meet my friend. Is Elphaba here?”

“Oh,” he said, and then raised his voice. “Fabala!”

A few more of the men looked over at them. Glinda found it in herself to hate their wolfish stares. There. Elphaba was the one in the blue coveralls with their legs poking out of the last carriage. She _was_ here. She stood and then saw Glinda. A brilliant smile lit up her face.

Despite herself, Glinda smiled back at her. It was good to see her. It was always good to see Elphaba, and she had missed her in the morning. She had the note Elphaba had left her in her pocket still. _Early morning. You were sleeping soundly and I hated to disturb you, a picture of slumber lovelier than the dawn. I will be late tonight. Do not wait up for me._

She turned to the foreman, who was beckoning Elphaba. She'd meant to ask about Elphaba's hours, but now that the time had come, she knew that it would be a strange question. She was uncomfortable enough that she decided not to ask at all.

“Glinda,” Elphaba greeted, huffing a bit as she arrived. “Are you - everything all right?”

“I was just in the neighborhood. I have two sandwiches, have you taken lunch?”

“Oh,” Elphaba said. Glinda was nearly certain that she didn't take lunch, and Elphaba's reaction only cemented her suspicion. “Can I step away with my friend?” she asked the Munchkin.

“So long as the carriage is ready this afternoon,” he replied, and Elphaba nodded.

She went and retrieved her bag, where she stored her gloves and the hat she used to tame her hair. They walked away from the warehouse, along pitted dirt streets that marked the poorer districts of the City.

“You had a break from work?” Elphaba enquired gently.

“I wanted to see you,” Glinda explained.

“You ought to be careful around here. It's not - “ Elphaba cut off whatever she was going to say.

“Tame? Safe?” Glinda stepped over a rut in the road. The rut was half-filled by frothy water, and Glinda caught a stench from it as they passed.

“Delicate,” Elphaba said decisively, and touched Glinda's elbow, nodding toward a marble half-wall ringing a park. Glinda could see that the park had once been beautiful. There were two statues from the era of Ozma the Scarcely Beloved, now defaced and missing limbs. A few bushes barely clung to life; most were taken down to the ground by scavengers for kindling. The ground seemed a thick soup of piss and shit, frozen mid-churn.

They perched on the wall with their backs to the ruined park, and Elphaba reached up and ran her thumb down Glinda's nose. Glinda uncrinkled her nose. “And the men in the garage will be talking about you,” she told Glinda. “They'll ask me for your address, and try calling if I give it. Did any strike your fancy?” Glinda could tell Elphaba meant it as a joke, but there was no trace of a smile.

“How do you stand it?” She unwrapped their sandwiches, although she was less hungry now than she was an hour ago at the deli.

“The entire shop is in collusion.” Elphaba meant that they were sympathetic to the Resistance. It didn't mean much to Glinda.

“Do you feel safe?”

“As safe as I ever could be,” Elphaba said, which wasn't an answer. She took one of the sandwiches from Glinda and took a bite.

“Elphie?” Elphaba grunted. “Did you take a position at the garage?”

Elphaba narrowed her eyes and swallowed before answering. “ _That's_ why you came. You could have asked me instead of hunting me down.”

Glinda fiddled with the sandwich wrapper. “I wanted to know how it was for you. You know, I think of you all the time, and it is good to be able to imagine what you are doing. You have your head buried under carriages all day - now I know.”

“With vulgar pissants, that's right.” Elphaba's eyes twinkled. “Meanwhile you are typing correspondence for the Wizard, copying his policies for distribution, his press releases for the masses. Which, I wonder, is more oppressive in the end?”

Glinda smiled at Elphaba's bitter humor. Her version of Glinda's job was exaggerated, although it was true that the Wizard was one client of their firm. “You should be a typist,” she said, but Elphaba only shuddered in mock horror.

After she left Elphaba at the garage, as she picked her way back uptown, she still thought about Elphaba and was mystified. It wasn't that she wanted to know every detail of Elphaba's life. And Elphaba had never told her that she couldn't ask. And yet, wasn't it strange that even when confronted directly, Elphaba did not answer? Glinda still did not know if Elphaba worked there on a schedule, or as needed. She did not know where Elphaba went at night. Maybe it was not her place to know, but - but things in their tiny house were changing, and she did not know what to make of it.

Were they closer? Could they be, when everything remained unspoken? It was a guess as to what Elphaba thought, and why she continued their physical relationship beyond that first night. Glinda was sure that she could read lust in Elphaba's eyes, and satisfaction, although she was certain of little else.

Had Glinda's expectations of Elphaba changed now that they shared their bodies as well as a bed? Did Elphaba feel pressure to be thoughtful, to give Glinda gifts, and where else did that pressure exert itself? Glinda was worried because she thought that she had not changed in her attitude toward Elphaba. Truly, her feelings had barely changed, except that along with tingling, bodily frustration, she also enjoyed release, now. She had always wanted to let the feelings that soared in her chest bubble out of her mouth, and maybe it was harder, even painful to bite her tongue now, but there were a myriad of new substitutes for those words now, too.

Glinda hated to wonder if Elphaba's gifts were _her_ substitute. And substitute for what? Always, she saw the shadow of a man over Elphaba's shoulders. Fiyero was coming, and Glinda would not deny Elphaba the one great love of her life. It felt like a dream now, or a prophecy, and Glinda knew that it was the same one that uprooted her from the carriage those many months ago.

And still they did not speak of the future. Glinda would graduate from her night school in the spring, and Elphaba did not ask what she would do afterward. Did she want Glinda to apply to postgraduate programs? Did she plan to waste her brilliance on simple contraptions and carriages for the rest of her life? Was she planning some great coup? They shared so much of their lives, but there was much, much else that was not shared. As always, Elphaba left much to the imagination. Even naked, she was a mystery.

Glinda blinked to dispel the helpless tears befouling her lashes. She stomped her boots on the cobblestones, conjuring anger to straighten her spine. By the time she was up the lift and in her seat at the office, she was composed again. Her fingers on the typewriter made a chorus with the rest, and she lost herself in the repetition.

That night, Glinda found a card under their door. It was from Tibbett. He was in the Emerald City, and asked to meet for tea on the next week. He invited them to his boarding-house, and gave the address.

The sharp division of this life from their past at Shiz was about to end. She and Elphaba would make conversation with an old friend, and Tibbett would doubtless see both their closeness, and what kept them so far apart. He would be gentle, and Glinda would be able to see the pity in his gentleness, because he would know what lurked and festered in Glinda's heart.

Glinda turned the card over between her fingers and could not tell if she was pleased, or not. Although in the end, her feelings scarcely mattered, and maybe that was the most painful part of all.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoghts? Any thoughts at all?

It was the middle of her last semester at Frema, and Glinda felt none of the detachment that was supposed to plague her now. Instead she felt like she was about to lose something that she treasured.

It wasn't that she liked any of her teachers. The school itself was a bit creepy, and Glinda never stayed after class long enough to cement the small conversations that she had with the other students into anything approaching friendship. 

But she did have a sense that she was losing  _ learning. _ And she was losing the sense of momentum that she'd had since she started, because…  _ now what?  _ She needed to find a job in sorcery. She didn't hate typistry, but without school, what would bring challenge and interest in her life? And what types of jobs were there? If she'd been about to graduate Shiz, and had not intended to go back to the Pertha Hills and get married, she'd have some career guidance. Here, it was like there was a club that she didn't even know about, and hadn't been invited to. 

Connections. That was what she lacked. Morrible - here a wall came up - at least, Glinda was certain that Morrible cared about what came of Glinda. 

The nature of Morrible's interest in Glinda was also revealed that semester. Elphaba seemed to lazily emerge from the haze of sex that had marked the past year, and grasped urgently that Glinda was about to lose access to the resources she had at school. 

So every night before Glinda went to class, Elphaba refreshed her memory, sometimes in excruciating detail, of the interview with Morrible that marked their last day at Shiz. “Break the enchantment,” she urged Glinda. “Find a way,” and Glinda would push her away or pull her closer, protesting that wasn't it Elphaba that could break that enchantment, since she had done it for herself? And Elphaba would tell her to focus, that she had determination but not magic, and that Elphaba needed her to do this for herself and for Elphaba's sister. 

Her sister. Having lost a year, Glinda would graduate at the same time as Nessa, although from different schools and a million miles apart. Glinda had tried writing Nessa, but had gotten barely anything back. Nessa was abandoned by them both, in the lion's den no less, and she knew precisely whom to blame.

  
  


Elphaba came with the kitten and smoking cheeks around midnight, slamming the door open and waking Glinda. It took a few minutes for her to find her bearings, while Elphaba skittered to the drawer with the towels and wrapped her tiny, white spotted package tightly. The pair of them shivered together and Glinda approached them cautiously. They were in another world together, and not the one she inhabited.

But Elphaba welcomed her wordlessly, and Glinda turned the sleeve of her night gown to wipe the tears from Elphaba's cheeks before turning her attention to the bundle in Elphaba's arms.

“Oh,” she remarked. “A cat.” The animal's face was barely peeking out of the towel Elphaba wrapped it in. Glinda had thought that it was shivering, but she realized now she was wrong. It was purring.

“Kitten,” Elphaba corrected, and she reached one long, thin finger out and scratched between the kitten's eyes. What Glinda thought was coloring caked off, and Glinda saw that it was dried mud. 

“Do you think she's hungry?” Glinda murmured, and Elphaba looked up at her, alarmed. “Don't we have some milk?” She moved to the ice chest - though they never had any ice, they still kept the perishables in it, as if to seal them safely away from whatever might speed their demise.

Elphaba trailed behind her and danced nervously until Glinda produced the milk and a sauce pan, and lured her back to the fire. It was nearly out, but still warm enough. Elphaba released her bundle gingerly onto the ground, and stayed crouched over to watch as the kitten made its way over to the bowl and sniffed at it.

Released, the kitten was skinny and pot-bellied. Glinda saw its ribs through the sparse, spiky fur. She could also see a veritable colony of fleas, which the kitten shed and then re-collected like its own personal halo. But it walked, and began lapping at the milk, and Glinda put her hand on Elphaba's head and stroked her hair a little.

Patience paid off, and Elphaba stood, eyes still fixed on the kitten. “I heard her under a porch and stopped, on my way - somewhere, and I thought she must be someone's cat but she climbed right into my lap and look at her. She is - she must have been -”

“I am glad that you brought her home,” Glinda said to her gently, and then she had to endure an hour of flea-vanquishing before Elphaba acquiesced to leave the rest of the fleas for the morning and turn off the light. 

Partway through the night, the kitten trundled back onto the bed, and in the morning she was curled in a loyal and devoted ball on Elphaba's chest. Glinda was not confident that the thing had slept that night at all, so loud was its purring. She eyed it, and gave it a reluctant scratch on the head. It turned its chin up in offering, but she had to slap her own neck to drive off an errant flea and it forgot her again.

She slipped out of bed before she could convince herself otherwise. The sky was bright with impending dawn, but it was cold still this close to winter, and she hurried to dress. The kitten's purring ceased, and Glinda checked it and Elphaba before she left. Elphaba was peaceful, and the kitten's breath was slight and ghosting and quick. 

The contrast between the two was stark. Elphaba's skin was verdant, smooth and silky and healthy, and the kitten was white and dirty and malnourished. Glinda supposed that it was hers now, too, and that she'd spend the effort and coax this creature into happiness and health in their home. She felt an absurd swell of affection for the two of them, as if in some way they were the same to her.

On the way to the door, she stopped by the desk. She'd written back to her father, finally, giving a date for her graduation and inviting them to stay near her apartment for the weekend before. It was in three short months. 

He'd asked to meet Elphaba, which was why it had taken so long for her to reply. She'd decided to leave the question unanswered. Probably they would think that she had broken up with the girl who'd whisked her away from society and into obscurity in the Emerald City. They'd use the weekend to assure her that all was not lost on that front. They might even have a few dates prepared for her by that time. It wasn't like she was actually  _ married _ , even if she had disappeared for a time. There was no child, nothing that would prove impossibly incriminating. With Elphaba gone, she could move on.

A few days later, Elphaba found it in herself to leave the kitten alone in the apartment. She'd tracked down the butcher and prepared probably a cow's worth of meat for her kitten. “Malky,” she called him, and Glinda could not laugh at the strange name. He was, after all and cleaning revealed, absolutely white. His nose and eyes were the only color he had, and Glinda found it easy to love him while he groomed for hours on end, legs splayed and a nice purr his only accompaniment. 

They were meeting their old friends in a public house in the downtown district, which was only a half hour walk away. Glinda walked with her head high, and knew the difference to be marked between them. On the one hand, Elphaba bore herself proudly. On the other, her face was veiled and her steps shallow and quick, like she feared what might be following her behind.

At the pub, Glinda found their friends quickly. But there was another, nearly hidden in the shadows - an unwelcome intruder on what had, Glinda thought, been a stable group. Avaric, who graduated with Boq two years ahead of her now, and lived in the Emerald City out of a pure disdain for anything more worldly than the City that Never Sleeps. Crope and Tibbett, happy for their chance in high (or low) society, struggling to make their shared venture turn profit. Milla was gone with Boq, and Pfannee and Shenshen making their new marriages work, so it was just Glinda, Elphaba, and the boys for now. There were some odd accidents, but nothing like the man in a white tunic with blue diamonds on his skin and a smile that shone brighter than the moon.

Glinda stumbled through greetings, her hands numb with terror. She and Elphaba found drinks at the bar and wandered back, and she resisted the urge to fake sick and abandon the venue. 

Elphaba picked the seat closest to the Vinkun, but tipped her hips toward Glinda so that Glinda could imagine that she couldn't see the man at all. Indeed her eyes seemed only for Glinda. 

Glinda said, “Fiyero. What a pleasant surprise to see you here, after all. You must be nearly graduated.”

“Yes,” he said, and Glinda nearly fainted from envy. His muscles ripped under the thin shirt. Elphaba did not look at him at all.

“Just this spring, isn't it? What will you do after?”

“I must return to my family and my father, finally,” Fiyero said. Responsibility etched a frown in his brow. “Shiz could teach me the ways of the Gillikinese, but now I must relearn those of the Arjiki.”

“And your wife,” Glinda interjected, earlier than was proper. She didn't care. 

“Yes,” Fiyero agreed easily, and the conversation moved on to the latest entertainments of the city. Glinda could barely spare thought enough to contribute. All she could see was Elphaba's eyes, and when the ordeal was done Elphaba asked her, “What was the matter, tonight? Thinking of Malky, all alone?”

“That's right,” Glinda agreed, and she grabbed Elphaba's hand and would not let her go, all the way to their little apartment over the granary.


	5. Chapter 5

Glinda hurried up the stairs in the dark, anxious to relieve herself. She'd had too much tea, and it was late.

Glinda had seen little of Elphaba this week - her finals week, not that Glinda exactly expected Elphaba to care - but she did, she _should,_ and Glinda's bitterness resolved into a hope that Elphaba _wasn't_ home, as Glinda was already sleep-deprived and her last and most difficult exam was tomorrow night. And sure enough - no light under the door - Elphaba was either sleeping or, more likely, gone.

She sighed sharply and fitted her key into the lock by touch. It was a cloudy and moonless night, and the corridor was only a little brighter than the stairwell. It took some doing to get the key to fit, which was unusual, but she finally managed it, and turned the key to the sound of grinding.

She normally moved through the apartment by touch, but something felt different. She listened, but there was no sound. With a small effort, she lit a blue fire in her palm.

The first thing she saw in the shadows was Malky, under the chair. The next was three - no, four? - big, gray shapes with thuggish faces and meaty hands.

They didn't even pull out their clubs. Oddly silent and very fast, they lunged for her.

She stepped back into the corridor, turning the circle of blue light into a narrow beam beyond the door and the men, and murmured an incantation.

A blast of power exploded from her fingertips, twining in blue vines around her attackers’ limbs. The paralyzing effect was immediate.

Glinda paused for a second to be sure that the spell caught them all, trying not to look at their grotesquely twisted faces, and then she skittered into the room and scooped Malky up. He twisted and his claws bit through her wool jacket, but she squeezed him tightly and he gave up. She grabbed a handful of her own jewelry and stuffed it in her pocket, and then scooped up the lock-safe box with their savings.

She cast one final look around the room. Everything in it was precious and irreplaceable. What had Elphaba brought with her from Shiz that she would miss?

One of the thugs grunted audibly, and Glinda jumped, weaving through their motionless bodies and out the door. She took the stairs faster than she had ever before. Malky twisted in silent discomfort. He came and went through their window, but had never been carried out of their apartment before.

She ran down the street, as fast as she could given the heavy safe in her arm. Two blocks down, she ducked down an alley and caught her breath. Maybe the safe would fit in her bag, but the logistics of opening the bag with the cat in her other arm seemed impossible.

Her next thought was of Elphaba. She'd still come home, and be caught by the thugs. How could Glinda get a message to her? She couldn't.

Where was she? Did Glinda need to wait outside the apartment after all?

Her bladder protested, and she squeezed her thighs together in frustration. The thugs were there for Elphaba; Glinda knew that much. Had Elphaba's nighttime activities with the Resistance finally caught someone's attention? She was not exactly in hiding, and Glinda knew it was because of her that Elphaba was so easily found.

Glinda scratched Malky's back and he tried again to escape. She wondered who to call on. Where would Elphaba go to find her? Assuming she escaped the trap at their apartment - which, how could she, she had no magic! - Glinda imagined Elphaba walking through the door and being pummelled brutally to death.

But Glinda couldn't stay here, in the freezing cold with Malky. Tibbett and Crope were in midtown, a walk of a half hour. Avaric was back at the club, which was even farther, but their rooms were much bigger so it would be more comfortable. Elphaba's garage was in a different direction entirely.

Glinda walked to midtown. She rang the bell to the shop a few times, until Crope poked his head out the window and then rushed down the stairs to let her and Malky inside.

The boys hatched a plan - Tibbett would wait outside their apartment, and catch Elphaba before she went up. It wasn't the best of plans, but during the night, it was the best they had.

She took tea with Crope while they waited for Tibbett. Glinda's hands shook uncontrollably as they waited, until she began to feel a bit fuzzy and realized that Crope had been spiking her drinks.

She became unreasonably angry with him and put back on her jacket. “They know to look for you,” Crope said, but logic couldn't penetrate Glinda's panic. She couldn't see anything but Elphaba, lying in a pool of blood. Or, water. Inaction had become intolerable. What if Tibbett didn't catch her before she went up? What if the thugs noticed and attacked him?

“I'll get a gun,” she told him. Her hands were still shaking, and her fingers were cold although the apartment was warm.

Crope said, “You won't find a place open at this hour.”

She gripped the back of her chair tightly. Malky peeked out from inside Crope and Tibbet's room, and she wracked her mind for an idea. “I'll go to that damn garage and tell them what happened.”

“They won't be there. It's a daytime front only.”

“How could you know that? You don't know anything.” She could feel her panic turn unfairly on him into anger, and didn't care. “I have to do something. She's out there. I have to find her.”

“You were fine when you got here. Nothing has changed. Just sit down. Let's play chess.”

Glinda shook her head helplessly. “I can't just wait here. She might not even come home tonight. What about Tibbett?”

“She stays out all night?”

“Sometimes.” Glinda felt uncomfortable, like she was confessing that Elphaba may be having an affair. She could be, although somehow Glinda knew she wasn't. Her jealousy was reserved for one single competitor, who was likely not even in the Emerald City anymore. She willingly shared Elphaba with the Resistance, and did not have any hope of having Elphaba to her own. Her frustration with Elphaba stemmed from Elphaba's reticence and reclusive nature, not from jealousy per se.

None of that mattered here. Yes, sure - she was like a wife neglected, maybe, except that Elphaba had made no promise to her. That didn't matter now.

Crope watched the thoughts flicker over her face. Finally, he spoke. “It's the Gale Force that's after her, Glinda. You're going to have to think of more than just tonight. When she's back, she'll need you to be strong.”

Glinda nodded and sat, miserably, back at the table. She still had her jacket, and her hands were still cold. She put them between her thighs.

Crope searched her face. “Will you stay with her if she has to flee the city?”

Glinda felt unexplainable tears prickle behind her eyes. She nodded again. Of course she'd stay with Elphaba. If Elphaba was living in a box in the sewer, she'd stay with her. It was frustrating that Elphaba cared so little about her own comfort that Glinda would have to make that choice, but she could not tame Elphaba.

“It's my last exam tomorrow,” Glinda remembered suddenly.

“Is it safe for you to go?”

“I have no idea. I - what has she done, to warrant such attention from the Wizard? It can't be important enough that they know where I go to school. Anyway, it's at night.” Glinda considered the possibility that the Gale Force could have followed her. Despite the unlikeliness, she was still a bit spooked by the idea.

There were boots on the stairs, and Glinda shot to her feet. “Elphaba,” she called as she rounded the corner, slamming open the door that led to the stairwell.

There she was, peeking around Tibbett as he led the way up the stairs. Her look was very serious. Glinda took a few steps down and let Tibbett past, thanking him absently, her eyes on Elphaba only. 

Elphaba wrapped her arms around Glinda, standing one step below her, and Glinda hugged her head to her chest. She heard Tibbett close the door behind him, uncharacteristically sensitive.

“Elphie,” she whispered, pressing her lips to Elphaba's head, smelling her hair. She shook with relief. “You terrible creature,” she said. “You mean thing, I was so worried.”

Elphaba partially extracted herself from Glinda's vice grip to look at her face. “They attacked you,” she said, as if she still couldn't fully believe it. “The Gale Force attacked _you.”_

That part was unremarkable to Glinda. “You could have died. Elphie, I could have never seen you again.”

 _“You_ could have died.” Elphaba was very serious. “I am so sorry, my sweet. I had never imagined that they would attack our home.”

“Oh.” Glinda couldn't quite believe her ears. She had never heard Elphaba apologize in earnest in her life. “We are fine. We're safe.”

“Yes.” Elphaba exhaled, and then she put her hands on either side of Glinda's face and kissed her soundly. “Thank you for being so clever, and for saving Malky. I hate that you had to, but I am so glad that you were so strong and able.” Glinda felt an echo of a speech like that from their time at Shiz, when she was still Galinda. It had the same effect on her now as it had then.

“I -” _love you,_ she nearly said. “I am glad, too. I'm glad it wasn't you,” she half-laughed. “I don't know what you would have done.”

“Died, probably,” Elphaba said. There was no hint of a joke in her tone, or her dark, serious eyes.

“Oh, Elphie,” Glinda whispered, bottom lip trembling uncontrollably.

“I can't forgive myself for putting you in jeopardy,” Elphaba told her. She gripped Glinda's elbow tightly, and with her other hand, her hip. “The most important thing in the entire world, and I never thought to worry that my actions might endanger you.” She shook her head, looking down between their bodies.

Glinda jumped to interrupt the thought before Elphaba formed it entirely. “I - we will just be more careful with our location, next time. We'll be more discreet. I can do that. Please.” A sob shuddered in her lungs, without her permission. “Don't leave.”

“Leave?” Elphaba looked up at her with a frown. “You're right,” she said a moment later. “It's too dangerous -”

Glinda kissed her silent. She threaded her fingers into Elphaba's hair and pulled it. She wished her chest would open up to deposit Elphaba inside.

“You can do anything that you want,” she said when they broke apart. “I won't stop you. Please, let me follow you.” She pressed their foreheads together. “I can't stand to lose you again. It was long enough without you the first time.” She didn't fully understand what she was saying. Was she talking about the time before she met Elphaba? Every moment without Elphaba in it seemed to contain a void.

“I want you to be safe, Glinda,” Elphaba started.

Glinda sobbed. It was becoming undignified, the tears, the drama. “I won't be safe without you,” she told Elphaba. “I need -” she cut herself off.

“I was going to say that I'd quit,” Elphaba said unexpectedly. “But you continue to interrupt me.”

“Quit?” Glinda was completely flummoxed.

“I'll leave the Resistance. You're more important.”

Glinda's heart stuttered to a stop in her chest. “Me?” she said stupidly. She felt her world turn to wax and begin melting.

“Of course,” Elphaba said. “Of course you are. You didn't know?”

“You never said,” Glinda told her. She examined Elphaba's face.

Elphaba frowned and rubbed her thumb absentmindedly against the skin of Glinda's hip. “I suppose I haven't, but I hope I showed you.”

Glinda laughed and hiccupped, and pressed her hands on either side of Elphaba's face, framing it. “You shouldn't quit. It's far too important. I know that it is. I believe in you, Elphaba.” She couldn't help the huge smile that betrayed her happiness. She kissed Elphaba on the tip of her nose, and then she whispered, nervously, “I have to tell you that I am in love with you.”

Elphaba smiled back, a twinkle in her eye. “You don't say. And here I thought we were desperately in love this entire time.”

“You absolute dolt,” Glinda choked in heartfelt relief. “You demon. You didn't say.”

“I love you,” Elphaba said. She flicked a tear off Glinda's face. “I'd like to kiss you again, if you'd stop crying.”

Glinda laughed and wiped her face, breathing deeply. When she emerged from her handkerchief, Elphaba was looking at her. Her eyes were troubled.

Glinda sunk down on the stair and pulled Elphaba down with her. Elphaba made the stairwell warm. Even Glinda's fingertips were thawed. Glinda kissed Elphaba's brow and the sides of her mouth until Elphaba's frown was completely vanquished.

  
  
  



End file.
